


Buttons

by bigdumbbimbo



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Smut, Virgin Reader, requested on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:40:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25605982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigdumbbimbo/pseuds/bigdumbbimbo
Summary: You require a bit of help from the Hound while getting dressed.
Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Original Female Character(s), Sandor Clegane/Reader, Sandor Clegane/You
Comments: 5
Kudos: 149





	Buttons

You could already hear the beginnings of the party. You knew your younger sister would give you an earful about being late and embarrassing her in front of her betrothed, but you didn’t really want to go anyways. All the pretending to care what the Ladies had to say about anything, the Lords trailing their hands along your waist, and trying to avoid the royal family. You would much rather be in the kitchens, sneaking drinks with the staff and the guards. It was much more entertaining. As a bastard, you usually weren’t welcome at the fancy feasts and big parties, but Catelyn Stark wasn’t there to shove you into the background like she had your entire life. 

Honestly, you would have been on time had it not been for your stupid dress. You hated the ridiculous fashion in the capitol. Everything required a servant to help get into. What was the point of clothing you couldn’t put on yourself? You could call for a handmaid for help, but you were stubborn if nothing else. You had gotten nearly half the buttons done up but you couldn’t reach the ones further up and you were seriously debating just wrapping a shawl around your shoulders to cover the exposed skin when you heard your name from behind the closed door, along with a sharp knock. 

You held the front of your dress to keep it from falling forward as you pulled the door open. Your eyes traveled upwards, looking at the face of the Hound. 

“Prince Joffrey asked me to escort you,” The Hound explained. You huffed indignantly. “Is there a problem?” 

“I’m sure the prince is just destroyed by my absence,” You said, stepping back into your room. The Hound stayed in the doorway. 

“His Grace requested it on the behalf of your Lady Sister,” The Hound said. 

“Sansa can live without me for a few more minutes while I figure this damned dress out,” You said, annoyed. “I would rather not go at all. If one more stupid high born man tells me what a shame it is that I’m not true born, I’m taking your sword and slitting his throat.” 

The Hound said nothing. You looked at him in the reflection of the long mirror you stood in front of. When he realized you could see him looking at you, he looked away. You couldn’t help the pink that brushed your cheeks. 

“Well, are you going to help me or what?” You asked. He looked back at you in the mirror. 

“Isn’t that what the handmaids are for?” 

“Do you see any handmaids in here, Ser Clegane?” 

“I’m not a knight,” He bristled. 

“Sorry,” You said, turning towards him. “But I still require your assistance, if you wouldn’t mind.” 

He looked like he wanted to say no. You were a little surprised he didn’t. You thought he would say it wasn’t his job or what he was sent for, but instead, he stepped towards you. You watched his reflection. He paused for a long time, his hands just inches from you, his eyes on the exposed skin of your back, as if waiting for you to tell him to get away from you. 

Finally, his fingers found the lowest button. You felt a chill run up your spine as you felt his knuckles brush your back. His fingers were large and his skin was rough. You found yourself wondering how those fingers would feel somewhere else. Your cheeks burned brighter. 

“Shouldn’t let a man into your chambers when you’re not dressed,” He said as he did the next button. 

“And what about a hound?” You joked. 

“You’re lucky it was me the prince sent and not one of his other guards.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“These buttons would be going in a different direction,” He said. 

“I didn’t realize you were such a gentleman,” You said. He barked out a laugh.

“Not about to do anything to the Hand’s daughter,” The Hound said. “I like my head where it’s at.” 

“His bastard daughter.”

“You know your father better than I,” The Hound said. “That’s not a distinction that matters to Eddard Stark.” 

“Maybe not,” You shrugged. “But it does matter to the rest of the people in the capitol.” 

“What’s your point?” The Hound asked, finishing the last button. You noticed he didn’t step away from you. He still stood just as close. You could feel him behind you. 

“You don’t have to be as gentle as you think you do,” You said. You made eye contact with him in the mirror. He studied your reflection. You knew he wasn’t an idiot and you weren’t being subtle. 

You reached back, grabbing one of his hands in yours, placing it on your hip first, then guiding up the path of your stomach, then over your chest, his thumb tracing the curve of your breast. 

“You really this desperate to disappoint your father, girl?” The Hound asked, his voice almost a growl in his throat. 

“Maybe just desperate to be late to the party,” You said with a smirk. 

He took his hand away from you. “Find one of the other guards to help you get undressed, none of them will say no to a girl like you.” 

“And you are saying no?” You asked, spinning around to face him. He always looked a bit surprised when you made eye contact. You weren’t like Sansa, too afraid to even look at him directly. Even if he towered over you, he didn’t frighten you like he did everyone else. 

“Why do you want me to touch you?” He asked instead of answering. You laughed. 

“Why else?” 

“You’ve never been touched by a man,” He guessed. You didn’t want to admit he was right, but your silence confirmed it for him. You weren’t stupid enough to think that your ‘virtue’ meant anything to anyone but a man’s ego, but you were still embarrassed to admit it. “Plenty of other willing men.” 

“Are you not a willing man?” 

“I’m very willing,” He said. His hands found their way to your hips again. He pulled you against him, letting you feel the bulge pressed against your stomach. “But why are you?”

“You want a full explanation?” You asked. 

“Not really,” He said. He bent down, grabbing your thighs roughly as he lifted you. Just as quickly, you found yourself pressed into your bed, his large body over yours. You pressed your lips to his, showing him you meant what you said. 

You let your skirts pool up around your waist as you wrapped your legs around him. You could feel his rigid length under the cloth of his pants and you wanted nothing more to feel it all the way inside of you. You couldn’t help a moan that passed your lips as he rolled his hips against yours, giving you some much needed friction. 

“You like that?” He asked, his breath hot on your ear. You nodded furiously. He moved down your body, leaving rough, stubbled kisses on your skin and the cloth of your dress. His beard tickled your stomach and you felt a hot flush across your skin as he press a kiss onto the soft flesh of your inner thigh, just above your knee. He knelt on the floor as if in prayer before you on the bed. He pulled your body towards him, putting your thighs up on his shoulders. 

He kissed higher and higher on your thigh until you felt his hot breath on your center. He stood completely still, his hands pressed on your hips. You needed him so badly, you ached. You squirmed under his hands, making him laugh against your leg. 

“Impatient little thing, you are,” He said, kissing your thigh again. 

You were about to voice your protests when you felt his finger enter you, making you gasp. You twisted your fingers into his hair. He curled his finger inside of you, watching you as your back arched off the bed. 

He kissed the nest of curls before his tongue found your clit, making you cry out, holding tighter to his hair. He licked your slit as you rode his hand, enjoying the way you sounded as you got closer. 

He added another finger, his thrusts growing faster. Tears formed in your eyes, all the nerves in your body on fire in the best possible way. You had only felt this way alone, in your room with hand beneath your sheets in the dark. His tongue was lapping at your pussy sloppily, sounding like he had never tasted anything better. 

“Oh gods,” You cried out, your thighs shaking as you came, stars rising and bursting behind your eyes. 

Your breathing was ragged as he pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean. He helped you sit up, pulling your dress back down to cover you. He stood before you, helping you to your feet, his hand still on your back. You stood on your toes, your hands on his shoulders, to kiss him. You could taste yourself on his lips.

“Best get down to the party,” He said against your mouth. 

“This says otherwise,” You said, your hand slipping down to his hard cock, making him groan. He grabbed your wrist gently, but hard enough to pull it away. 

“Never had a virgin,” He said. “I’m going to take my time.” 

“You’re really going to make me wait?” 

“Until later,” He kissed you again before finally pulling away. He stepped back to the door, holding it open for you. You huffed again. He gestured for you to walk out before him. Just as you passed him, he gripped your arm, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “After this stupid thing, I’m going to rip every fucking button off.” 


End file.
